


Accidents don't just happen accidentally

by slow_burn



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Liverpool F.C., M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slow_burn/pseuds/slow_burn
Summary: Jordan realized that following his cat in to a stranger's apartment wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't just leave her there and how do you explain that? 
Or: They keep meeting so they start talking and things go from there...





	1. Chapter 1: The one in which they meet

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I ever publish, so reviews and constructive criticism are highly appreciated.
> 
> POV switches trough the story and I hope it's not too confusing. 
> 
> The title is a Supernatural quote. I don't know why, it just fitted.

Jordan Henderson was the unluckiest person on earth when it came down to pets. The fish he got in first grade ate each other and he was too scared to get new ones. Then was the dog that was on strictly left-shoe diet. It ruined so many, that years later Jordan still kept his shoes over his clothes in the wardrobe. He had an unfortunate hamster, who could skip out of his aquarium and wander around the house. But it’s survival instincts weren’t too great and more than few times he or his mom would find it under the fridge, starved and almost frozen. First pet he got when he moved out was a white rabbit, looking like a plush toy. It’s innocence was a mask, though, and it’s teeth were causing damage to flesh and inorganic materials alike (Mostly charging cords and occasional wire). After Jordan missed a Merseyside derby waiting for the electrician and had to buy three new phone chargers in one month, the rabbit had to go. He gifted it to his little cousin, letting it be her problem now.

Jordan loved animals, though, and felt alone in his apartment, so he thought to try one more time. After careful consideration, he decided on a cat. But fate just couldn’t be fortunate to him. The sweet, dark-grey colored, kitty he picked from the shelter, turned out to be a panther wannabe. Anything left on an open surface was either broken or have disappeared. Any food left unattended was gone in mere minutes and what she didn’t like was all over the carpet. Cabinets made for good hiding spots for toys, food and the cat herself. Jordan had to _baby proof_   the place! And buy new sheets the day he forgot to lock his bedroom door on his way out. Unforgettable was the day she found a pack of powdered sugar and rolled in it. Jordan took pride in even surviving the bath time that night. But by far, the worst thing was happening now.

Jordan was climbing through the open window of his neighbour’s apartment. The only neighbour he didn’t know. Jordan was easygoing and sociable, but the guy had moved in about a month ago, and wasn’t home most of the time. Tonight Jordan made the mistake of leaving an opened window (Just a tad for Christ’s sake!) and his home panther escaped. He looked just in time to see her going up the emergency staircase and sneak into another opened window, just a floor up. Jordan went to his neighbour’s door and rang the bell and knocked for five minutes straight. Each minute a new apocalyptic view popping in his mind – broken vases, eaten food, torn wallpaper and ruined furniture. Apparently no one was home and any delay could cause even more damage. So he made a decision that led him to this – standing in the middle of a stranger’s place, having just broken in, and no sign of the cat around. To make things even worse there were footsteps in the hallway, that stopped in front of the door, and the unmistakable sound of keys turning in the lock.

~~~~~

Adam tossed the keys on the antre table and watched them slide and fall to the floor. Too tired to care, he just kicked the door closed behind himself. All he wanted was some food, a shower and his bed. Mentally examining the contents of his fridge, he remembered buying chicken breasts and cream few days ago. Maybe they were still good to eat. Adam laughed to himself – a starving restaurant owner seemed pretty ironical. Taking few more steps inside, he stopped dead. There was a stranger in his living-room, looking no less shocked than him. His demeanor wasn’t intimidating, and in his loose sweatpants and football jersey he seemed safe. On second glance his messy blond hair and bright, baby-blue eyes made him look like a lost puppy. And yet here he was, in Adam’s apartment, not even trying to explain himself. Until…

“It’s… not what it looks like. I’m not a burglar. I’m looking for a cat.”

~~~~~

The confused look on his neighbour’s face showed Jordan that his words didn’t make much sense. So he composed himself and tried again.

“Hi, my name is Jordan and I’m your neighbour. I live under you. I left an opened window and my cat ran away, and sneaked into your apartment. I knocked, but no one answered. She’s pretty destructive and hates new places. So I thought… I don’t know… to get her out before she causes any damage?” he finished, uncertain. Thinking about it now, it probably wasn’t the best idea, Jordan admitted to himself. His neighbour didn’t seem convinced, but he wasn’t attacking him or calling the police, either. He spoke after a while.

“You realize that sounds mental, right?”

“Well, it’s not the best story, but it’s the truth.”

“OK” the guy nodded “I’ll play along. If you’re my neighbour, how come I’ve never seen you before?”

“Cause you’re never home.”

“Hey, I’m busy” great, he was irritated now. “But I’m usually home by midnight.”

“I’m in bed by eleven” Jordan exclaimed. He was losing his conviction, so he changed the tactic. “You can ask mrs. Robinson of 12C. I helped her carry her new TV. Or call the landlord, he’ll vouch for me.”

“Mr. Dalglish is out of town for tonight. I can ask him tomorrow. Now could you just leave? I’m too tired to argue.”

And that was the last thing Jordan expected to hear in a situation like this.

~~~~~~

Sending the guy away was probably not a good choice, but Adam really didn’t feel like dealing with this. But the blond (Jordan, was it?) shook his head.

“Believe me, I would walk away right now, but my cat hates strangers and I can’t leave her here.”

He seemed panicked now.

“OK” sighed Adam, surrendering. “Where is your cat?”

“I don’t know! I’ve been here for only couple of minutes.”

The incredibility of the situation finally caught up to Adam and he bursted out laughing. Jordan looked at him, expression between surprised and offended, and he opened his mouth to apologize. Then a sound came from his kitchen – a long, sad meow.

“So you weren’t lying” he asked, disbelieving.

“Who would make up a story like that?” Jordan blurted out and started moving towards the meow. Adam followed him, only to find the second biggest mess, that ever happened in his kitchen. (The first was the memorable day he tried to teach Studge the art of real pizza dough and chocolate soufflé.) Glass shards from the cream bowl were scattered around the opened fridge door, there were grated cheese bits everywhere, and Adam could see the chicken breast half eaten.

“You weren’t exaggerating the _destroyer_ part, huh?”

“Shit, I’m so sorry” hissed Jordan. “I’ll pay for everything she ruined or ate.”

“Well, let’s find her first.” replied Adam and listened for the direction of the noise. It sounded like it came from the cupboard under the sink, so he kneeled to open it. He pulled the handle, but the door creaked, and opened only an inch.

“The door is stuck” he noted. “Maybe she pushed something in front of it.” Adam put his fingers in the crack, but withdrew them with a cry. “Your cat scratched me!”

“I told you, Bagheera doesn’t like strangers.”

“You… named your cat Bagheera?” he looked at Jordan with astonishment.

“It seemed proper.” shrugged the blond and looked at the door. “Can’t we do something?”

He sounded on the verge of tears now and Adam felt bad for him. He got up and patted him on the shoulder.

“I’ll look for something to use as a lever, but you’ll stay in front of the door. I don’t want to risk injury.”

Jordan felt almost sick listening to his cat’s scared meowing, but Adam didn’t take long. He got back with a mop handle, stuck it in the crack and pressed. A ladle and a spatula fell off the cupboard, along with a very scared grey fluff. She cuddled up at Jordan’s arms and hissed at Adam.

“Yeah, Bagheera does seem proper” Adam huffed out, watching the fondness Jordan was hugging the animal with.

“Look mate, thank you so much for helping me and I’m sorry for everything. I’ll make it up to you.” Jordan looked so apologetic, Adam just couldn’t be mad. Plus it was a hilarious story to tell.

“No worries, Jordan. It’s OK.”

The blond smiled, obviously relieved.

“My friends call me Jord.”

“I’m Adam.”

“Well, sorry again and good night.” Jordan said as he was heading to the living-room.

“Goodnight and keep her away from trouble.” Adam replied and almost doubled over laughing, as Jordan tried to leave the same way he had gotten in.

“Jord? You can use the door this time.”

After realizing what he was about to do, Jordan turned an adorable shade of pink and stuttered.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

Adam chuckled to himself, as he headed to clean the kitchen mess. Some neighbour that was.


	2. The one in which they meet again, kind of

Jordan really didn’t feel like going out, but it was Simon’s birthday and he couldn’t turn him down. He liked the guy. Yes, he was a little too quiet and distant, but good-natured and hardworking. He was a great team member. So, dinner with the work crew it was. After ten minutes of voting where to go and Milly’s firm veto (“It’s his 28th birthday, he can’t celebrate it with burgers!”) they settled on the new pizza place near the office. The few internet reviews were good and the place looked cozy on the pictures.

Lucas had to finish up and Sarah took too much time getting ready, so Jordan said goodbye to his bedtime and called mrs. Robinson to feed Bagheera.

When they finally got there, the restaurant was more than half full, but their waiter fond them a nice table and gave them deep green menus with silver letters, spelling “Tranquillo”. Jordan felt like having a pizza, but the wide variety of crusts and toppings confused him, and he decided on a classical Margarita and a light beer. Having time to look around, he noticed the big oven behind a glass panel and a long bar by it. They were seated in the central part, which had brick walls and pictures of famous places around the world. Jordan liked the Eiffel tower the most. Dark brown tables with light green napkins and muted light were leaving the feeling of early autumn, when the grass is still green, but the days are not that bright. The music was barely audible over people’s chatter and sounded like 90’s soul and blues, warming the atmosphere. There were entrances to three separate rooms with the same brick walls and color scheme, but different decorations. In one of the rooms the upper half of the walls had bookshelves, full of well-read looking books. In the second room it was vinyl records – some still in their boxes. Jordan recognized some disco and classic rock, but not much else. The third room had the biggest collection of beer cans he had ever seen, even in picture. He tried to count and calculate their amount, but the waiter came to take the order and he gave up (however he was ready to bet the number was in the low thousands).

Jordan almost laughed at Sarah’s demand of gluten-free pizza, but stopped in time. He knew that, otherwise, he would be facing an hour long monologue of the healthiness of it. It was a new thing every month with Sarah. He still remembered the hellish week when her insistence of de-caff coffee combined with her PMS.

The drinks came quick and they toasted “To Simon”. The guy looked uncomfortable with the attention and Jordan tried to find a safe topic of conversation – like the weather or everyone’s health. Very soon, though, he found himself discussing Liverpool’s chances of making it in Top four this season. Lucas was strongly participating and Milly was listening politely, when the food arrived. Sarah looked confused and turned to the waiter.

“I’m sorry, but I ordered a gluten-free pizza.”

The young boy, with platinum blond hair and enviable amount of tattoos, looked no less confused.

“This is a gluten-free pizza, madam.”

“There is a dough in this pizza” Sarah sounded irritated now, “And dough isn’t gluten-free. May I speak to the manager?”

 The boy looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered and just nodded.

“Of course, madam.”

When he walked away, Milly turned to Sarah.

“Love, don’t you think they know well enough what kind of food they are making?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” snapped Sarah. “But I’m paying for it, so I have to make sure I get what I want.”

“Technically, Simon is paying.” Lucas laughed.

“You know what I mean!” hissed Sarah.

A stylish man in a black suit and green tie approached the table, addressing her.

“Good evening, I’m Daniel Sturridge, the manager. I heard you asked for me. What seems to be the problem, madam?”

Sarah looked at his polite smile and lowered her voice a little.

“Hello. I ordered a gluten-free pizza and our waiter brought me this.” She gestured towards her plate.

“This is a gluten-free pizza, madam. I was assured of it by our pizza maker.”

“But there is a dough in it. Dough has gluten. Therefore this is, most certainly, _not_ gluten-free.” Sarah was getting more irritated.

“How exactly do you think a doughless pizza looks like, madam?” almost snapped the manager.

Sarah looked offended and ready for a scandal. And she was fierce, when she was mad. Jordan looked around, seeing Simon hiding his face in his hands, people from the near tables glancing in their direction and a familiar man heading towards them. In just dark grey trousers and white button up, he looked casual, but still dignified. Did he have that quiff few nights ago? Jordan’s memories were kind of blurred. He barely had time to hide behind a menu and the man was already speaking to the manager.

“Daniel, please go to the bar to tell Emre to prepare the order for the alcohol delivery tomorrow.”

The manager nodded, smiled stiffly at Sarah and left. Jordan watched her sending a dirty look at his back, before turning to the man beside her.

“I’m sorry for his behavior, madam, he’s still learning.” the guy smiled and Jordan saw the anger slowly leaving his co-worker. It was a calming smile, he thought. “My name is Adam Lallana, I’m the owner. And I will gladly answer any questions you may have.”

“As I was telling your employee, my order was mistaken. I ordered a gluten-free pizza and I got one with dough.”

Adam seemed confused for a second, but then smiled again.

“Yes, but our gluten-free products are made with wheatless flour, like quinoa, potatoes or fava beans.” he explained, calmly. “Or in the case of your pizza – tapioca and brown rice. We make sure of it.”

Unfortunately, Sarah didn’t look convinced.

“So, there isn’t any gluten in my pizza?”

“I can promise you that. But if you want to be sure, our _maestro_ makes a great cauliflower crust.”

“That sounds disgusting!” Sarah frowned.

Jordan felt Simon, beside him, trying to slide under the table, which wasn’t easy for a guy with his height. He peaked over the menu and noted Adam’s still polite smile and cordial behavior. If he was irritated, he was showing nothing of it. That were some good people skills and acting talent. Thinking about it, with his warm eyes and sweet smile, he could be the lead actor in one of those American romantic movies. Like “The Notebook” or something.

To everyone’s amazement, Adam’s voice was still even and respectful when he spoke.

“Then may I offer you anything else on the menu, on my treat?”

Sarah seemed content, as a cat who just got a mouse, when she beamed.

“I’ll have spaghetti Bolognese, thank you.”

“Excellent.” Adam retorted. “Have a nice evening and call for me if you need anything else. Bon appetite!” He nodded at the table and walked away.

Jordan could feel the tension drop at once and saw Lucas smirk at him. Suddenly he had the strong urge to go to the bathroom. He wandered around a bit and ended up turning the wrong corner. He saw Adam talking to his manager in front of the kitchen doors. Not wanting to interrupt and panicked Adam might see him, Jordan stepped back behind the corner and plastered himself to the wall. He could hear the men speaking in low voices.

“You can’t snap at clients, Studge!” even if the tone was scolding, Adam’s voice was warm and fond. “The right attitude can make them come back and the wrong one can mean bad things for us. We are still building a reputation. Yes, I know that the client is not _always_ right, but we can’t afford bad reviews. Now please, go get the lady spaghetti Bolognese.”

“Should I make them gluten-free?” came cheerful response.

Then a soft laugh and an amused answer.

“Yeah, just in case.”

Jordan found the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed. It wasn’t Sarah’s scene, he was kind of used to it. But was his neighbor that cute the other night? Or that nice? Well, he did forgive Jordan for braking in, but… Should he go say hi? Probably not the best time. Jordan finished his internal rambling with the decision to just eat his pizza and go home, and got back to the table. His co-workers were chatting and joking, and he felt better. His pizza smelled amazing and tasted divine. Jordan made a promise to himself to get back sometime. Lucas, always the fast eater, had finished his meal and started a monologue about the starting eleven Klopp might pick for LFC’s visit at the Bridge in Friday. Jordan dived in to the topic and didn’t notice the exploring look he was getting from his neighbor from behind the bar all evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The gluten story came from a Google search of "Weirdest restaurant complains", so I apologize to anyone that thinks it's too much.
> 
> 2\. On Friday I fly to Liverpool for the Saturday's game and I'm so happyyyyyyy. And on that note - "Chapter 3: The one with the accident" should be up Thursday evening.


	3. The one with the accident

Adam looked at the list in his hand and back at his bartender, who was swiping the bar clean one last time.

“Are you sure this is all you need, Emre?”

“You know how it is on workdays, boss. People come from work with their cars and stick to soft drinks or a beer at most.”  The guy smiled, put down the towel and turned off the bar spotlights.

“OK, I’ll place the order in the morning and Loris will accept the delivery at noon. Go home and get some sleep now.”

“When will you get a break, boss? You know Studge and I can close the restaurant.”

Adam huffed out a laugh and scrubbed his face. He did feel tired, but wasn’t ready to let go of any responsibility.

“I’ll let you close when I’m able to pay for all the damage you may cause.”

Emre looked at him, mockingly offended.

“When the cat’s away… or whatever you Englishman say” Adam laughed and waved him goodbye. Walking around one last time, checking for turned on stoves and working devices, he thought it would be nice to go home before midnight. People were spending more time in the restaurant now. He was closing late more often and quiet nights like this were rare. He knew he should be glad, but developing a busyness was exhausting. Adam turned off the last lights, turned on the alarm and locked the door. He loved driving on empty streets, when it took him less than ten minutes to get home. Entering the code on his building door, he got in and headed to the elevator. He was surprised to see someone else already standing there, then recognized the blond hair and broad shoulders and smiled to himself.

“Hey” he greeted, getting close. Jordan seemed startled, but managed a quiet “Hi.” and they waited in silence for the slowest elevator on earth. When the doors finally slid open, they got in, not looking at each other, but Adam was feeling cheeky, so he spoke.

“You know, if you like cheese you can try the Quattro Formaggi next time. It’s the most ordered pizza on the menu.”

The doors closed shut and Adam could see Jordan’s panicked expression, reflecting on the metal.

“You saw me?” he stuttered. “I… thought…”

But Jordan couldn’t finish his sentence. The elevator stopped abruptly and the lights got out. The only light was coming from the panel and was so dim, Adam could see only Jordan’s silhouette. Then he heard his voice.

“Maybe we should try the emergency button.”

“I don’t see a repair’s number, so why not?” he replied and pressed the red button. “Now what?”

“Now we wait.” Jordan sighed and leaned against the wall. Adam fiddled with his phone, looking at the empty signal bars on the display. Then he put his hands in his pockets and started going in small circles.

“Are you afraid of enclosed spaces?” asked Jordan, curiously.

“No.” snapped Adam.“I just don’t like being forced to stay in them.”

“I’m not having a field day, either. Staying late at work isn’t my idea of good time. Nor being stuck in an elevator.”

“Oh, you call that staying late? And I thought I’m lucky to get home that early.”

“To each their own, I guess.” concluded Jordan and closed his eyes as a sign he didn’t want to talk anymore.

Adam took few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t the poor guy’s fault, that he had chosen such professional path for himself.

“Look mate, I apologize. I’m tired, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. You’re just as stuck as I am, after all.”

When he didn’t get a reaction, Adam tried again.

“Jord, I’m really sorry.” This time he even got shushed.

“Do you hear buzzing?” asked Jordan and they both jumped when a voice came from the intercom.

“Hello, is there anyone in the elevator?”

“Hello” Jordan called, relieved. “Mr. Dalglish, is that you?”

“Yes, who’s there?”

“It’s Jordan, from 13B.”

“And Adam, from 14B.” Adam chimed in. It was good to know their landlord knew they were there.

“OK lads, here’s the thing – there’s a power outage in the neighborhood. I called the company and they said it shouldn’t take long to fix the problem. Thirty-forty minutes, an hour tops. Are you OK in there?”

They looked at each other in horror, but then Adam shrugged. _It could have been worse, right?_ He mouthed and called out to the intercom.

“Yes sir, we’re all right. I guess we’ll just have to wait.”

An hour was a long time to stay on foot, so he sat cross-legged on the floor. Jordan followed his example, hugging his knees and laying his head on them. The green light was casting sharp shadows on his face, making it look worn out, so Adam started gently.

“I take it you don’t usually work late?”

“Office hours only.” Almost whispered Jordan. “But today was particularly hectic. And crappy.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a mediator.”

Jordan laughed at Adam’s puzzled expression, half shadowed and half green. When he didn’t spoke, Jordan asked.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

“OK, I guess it’s as good small talk topic as any.” Jordan smiled. “You know how sometimes people sue each other? Civil cases, I mean.” He waited for Adam to nod and continued. “A lot of the claims happen because one side, or both, not only believes it’s right, but feels righteous. It’s more emotional response, than reasonable one. Like, _I’ll show you I’m right._ And they spend a lot of time, money and nerves to prove it in court. A mediator is a sort of negotiator between the two sides. Someone that helps them reach mutual agreement before things get that far. Finding the best solution for both sides, saving them time and money.”

Jordan looked at Adam to see if he understood, but his face was still bewildered.

“So… you solve legal arguments?” he questioned, uncertain.

“Not necessarily legal, but generally, yes. I’m an argument solver.”

Adam’s face relaxed in to a small smile.

“And do you like your job?”

“It’s challenging and interesting most of the time. But it’s also emotionally draining and often ungrateful. Most of the time it’s like dealing with kids or an old married couples. Everyone trying to prove they are _more_ right.”

“So” Adam tried again. “Do you like your job.”

Jordan chuckled.

“In the end of the day – it makes me feel good. Just not days like this one.”

Adam smiled in response and they fell in silence. After a minute Jordan spoke.

“And you usually work even later?”

“Sometimes.” Adam answered. “The kitchen closes up at 11:00, the bar at 11:30, but frequently there are customers who finish their meals later. When we have a birthday celebration, or some other event, we close up later, too. Once I got home at 3:00 am. And got up at 7:00 to open the restaurant for breakfast hours.”

Jordan lifted an eyebrow in his direction which made him add.

“But it’s totally worth it. The only thing that stresses me out are the bills, sometimes.”

“Lucky you.” Jordan retorted. “Some days I get so fed up, it keeps me ’till the next morning.”

“How do you unwind?”

“Chinese food and reality shows.” Jordan replied and heard Adam snort. “Hey, everyone has a way of coping, OK? There is a confidentiality code in my job, so I can’t even complaint to anyone. The only one I can talk to is my cat.”

Adam laughed out loud.

“Speaking of that beast…” but upon noticing Jordan’s frown, he corrected himself. “I’m saying that fondly. How is she?”

“She slept in my bed that night.” Jordan admitted, getting a little red. “And she threw up a little, but I’m not sure if it was from the stress or the raw meat.”

“Ah, yes. That reminds me you owe me a dinner.” Adam responded.

He saw Jordan getting redder and chuckled.

“I’m just joking, OK?”

Jordan relaxed and hurried to answer.

“Dinner wouldn’t be a problem. It’s just that I’m not much of a cook and I don’t go out a lot. So the only good place I know, besides the sports bars, is your restaurant.”

“Well, that would be awkward.” Adam grinned at him. Jordan saw the playful spark in his eyes and wondered how to reply to it. They stared intensely at each other and both jumped when the intercom came to life.

“Lads, can you hear me?”

Adam jumped first.

“Yes, mr. Dalglish, we hear you.”

“Good. The power company said they fixed the problem so the electricity should be back on any minute now. Will you be OK?”

“Yes, sir. You can go back to bed, once the power is up.”

“Great. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, sir.” chimed in Jordan and stood up as well.

The lights came on at once and blinded them, so they squinted at each other. Adam pressed the buttons again and they started moving up.

“I meant it about the pizza.” He said. “Quattro Formaggi is divine.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jordan replied as the elevator reached his floor. He got out just as Adam added:

“Sweet dreams, then.”

Jordan doubted it and turned around to answer, but resolved on only “Goodnight.”. And just as the doors were closing, he could swear Adam winked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna be available until Wednesday, so you can expect "Chapter 4: The one with the late-nighter" then
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments, I find them very encouraging!


	4. The one with the late-nighter

Jordan found himself back in the restaurant sooner than he expected. Milly had finished a complicated and drawn-out case and the team decided to celebrate. On his account, of course. The night was going good until _non-drinker_ Simon trusted _regular prankster_ Lucas with his liquor. They drank some sweet lemony thing and, not long after that, Simon started talking louder. When he hugged Jordan for the first time, Milly hid the bottle, but it was too late. Someone had to take care for their co-worker and take him home, but they didn’t know how. He refused to tell them his address, or leave the place at all, insisting on another glass. Thankfully, Milly had his wife’s phone number, but she would need some time and he had an early flight to catch next morning. Sarah had left with some guy earlier in the evening, and Lucas had to go home to his wife and kids, so Jordan was left on the table with a sleeping blond and a second-hand embarrassment. He was about to finally pass a very difficult Candy Crush level, when he heard a familiar voice from just behind him.

“Last orders, sir.”

Jordan looked up to a smirking Adam, in black trousers and a lilac shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, menu in hand. He locked his phone, guiltily, and placed it on the table, returning the smile.

“You’re taking on the waiter’s duties now?”

“The waiters went home, so it’s just me you have.”

That prompted Jordan to look around, noticing the place was empty not only of clients, but of staff. His gaze landed on a wall clock, showing time just shy of midnight. His horrified expression made Adam laugh.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Started Jordan. “I didn’t… I thought… I should probably take him out.” he finished, gloomily.

Adam sat at the table and stared at him.

“And take him where? Your friend said his wife would pick him up.”

“Any time now, I hope.” Jordan replied, but didn’t sound convinced.

“Whenever. We can’t leave the guy on the street and the tables aren’t comfortable to sleep on for long. I’ve tried once and didn’t like it much.”

Jordan smiled, relieved, and Adam continued.

“I meant it about the last orders. I think you missed dessert.”

“Really? I’m keeping you late at work and you offer me a dessert?” Jordan looked at him astonished, but Adam just shrugged.

“It’s not such a big inconvenience, it happens all the time. Drunk customers are normal in this business.”

“How long have you been in this business?”

“Three months.”

Jordan tried to contain his laughter, but still let out a squeak. Adam acted mockingly offended and reached for the menu.

“I withdraw my dessert offering.”

But Jordan was faster and snatched it with a grin.

“No take backs. What will you recommend me?”

“Muffin.” Adam pouted.

“OK. The banana-chocolate or the vanilla blueberry?”

“Both?”

“Too late for that much sweet. Let it be the blueberry.”

“Excellent choice.” Mocked Adam and disappeared to the kitchen. A minute later he got back with a small plate, barely holding the muffin on it.

“Doesn’t this contain as much calories as my pizza?” wondered out loud Jordan.

“Technically, muffins are breakfast, not dessert.” Adam pointed. “But they are good and I can help you finish it.”

Jordan broke off a piece and stuck it in his mouth, almost moaning.

“The Quattro Formaggi was good, but this is amazing.” He swallowed and took a bigger piece. “My compliments for the baker.”

“Thank you.” Adam smiled. “I always try my best.”

Jordan almost choked at that.

“You made this?”

“Yeah.” Adam answered, almost shyly. “Baking has always been my strong side. A passion, you may say.”

“Then why did you open a restaurant, not a bakery?”

“That was the plan, generally.” Adam replied and contemplated continuing. Jordan just sat there, waiting. Adam glanced at Simon, who was soundly asleep and had started snoring a little, then back at Jordan.

“The restaurant wasn’t my idea, initially. It was my ex’s.” he frowned and continued. “We met at a cooking class and hit it off right away. We were talking how, one day, we will have our own pizzeria or bistro and work in the kitchen together.”

After a stretch of silence Jordan questioned, gently.

“May I ask what happened?”

“We started working on the idea.” Adam replied, looking lost in thoughts. “And it turned out we didn’t want the same thing, after all. We argued about _everything_. Menus and colour schemes disagreements turned in to rows about our future together. We were spending more time shouting at each other, than talking.” Adam’s voice had dropped to almost a whisper and his fingers were idly tracing the silver letters on the menu. “One day Jay just called it quit. Said he found the perfect place, just as he imagined it, and he’s going for it. But he didn’t think it’s going to work with me in the picture. So he moved out the same day.”

The silence on the table was grim, until Adam smiled and gestured around.

“So, I guess this place is my way of showing him I can do it too.”

Jordan returned the smile and gave a thumb up.

“Seems to me you’re doing a great job.”

Adam grinned, nodding.

“Just one more question.” Jordan pointed to the restaurant name on the menu. “How do you pronounce that and what does it mean?”

“Tran-kuil-lo.” Adam answered. Jordan made him repeat it few more times, mesmerized by the movement of his lips. “It’s Italian for quiet or calm. Sometimes even sober. Jay was always saying that for all his loudness, boldness and colour, I’ve been quiet, calm and grounded.” He explained, sounding woeful. Suddenly Jordan wanted to punch anyone who ever made Adam think, that calm and grounded are bad things.

That’s when Adam decided to change the topic and nodded in Simon’s direction.

“How exactly did he got himself like that?”

“I’m not sure, it was something sweet and yellow.” Jordan looked for the bottle, but the table was cleared.

“Limoncello.” Adam tsked and shook his head. “Sweet liquors are dangerous. This one tastes like lemonade and has the alcohol content of vodka. Your friend isn’t much of a drinker, is he?”

“Not at all.” Jordan huffed. “Simon is the reasonable, rational guy in the firm. Proper, for he is the only law graduate.”

Adam looked puzzled.

“Don’t you have to have a law degree to practice your profession?”

“Not necessarily. We don’t go to court, we don’t make or sign contracts, we just negotiate. It takes more problem solving skills, communicativity and patience, than knowledge of the law.” Jordan hesitated, but continued. “Before Milly created the firm, Simon was junior prosecutor, Sarah and I were office rats and Lucas… Lucas was working in an ice cream shop.”

Adam laughed and Jordan hurried to add.

“We all finished a course with an established company in London and have certificates.”

“Oh, I’m not arguing your abilities.” Adam replied, with an amused expression and a cheeky grin. “I’m sure you are a true professional.”

Jordan looked away, embarrassed, but turned back just in time to see Adam snatching the last piece of his muffin and licking his finger from the blueberry jam. He felt heat creeping up his face and almost choked on air. In perfect timing, the restaurant door opened and a beautiful brunette rushed in. Jordan stood up to meet her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Jasmine, I’m so sorry you have to do this. I just don’t know how to deal with him.” He said, apologetically.

“Well. It doesn’t happen often and now I have a leverage about a long list of things I’m going to guilt-trip him into doing. So, I guess it’s OK. This time.” She waved a finger at Jordan and turned to Adam, who had raised, hand outstretched. “I’m Jasmine, thank you for taking care of my husband.”

“He wasn’t much of a trouble.” Adam smiled and watched her lean over Simon.

“Baby, it’s time to go home. The cab is waiting outside.” She whispered in his ear and, as by command, Simon opened his eyes and stood up. Jasmin helped him put his jacket on, took his hand and turned to Adam again.

“You have a very nice place. I have to make Simon bring me here someday. And compliments on the music, I love Luther Vandross.”

Adam smiled and bid them goodnight, commenting after them.

“All it took her was few words, huh? That’s what I call relationship.”

Jordan didn’t know what to say, so he fidgeted, looking uncertain.

“Better call myself a cab too, then?”

Adam stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You know we live in the same building, right? I can drive you, just wait for a minute. I have to turn off the lights and lock.”

“I’ll be outside.” Murmured Jordan and got out in the cold air. Adam took literally a minute and they got in to his car, rolling on the empty streets.

“Hey” Adam started, nonchalantly. “We have a pizza tasting night next Saturday. Do you want to come?”

Jordan glanced at Adam, but he was just looking at the road.

“Pizza tasting night?”

“Yeah. Mini-pizzas of all kinds battling to me chosen customer’s favorite of the month. It was Studge’s idea. Our pizza maker deemed it troublesome, but it sounds fun, so we’re doing it.” Adam was smiling now, glancing in Jordan’s direction. “Basically, for reasonable fee, you get to eat pizza and drink wine all evening. What do you say?”

“It does sound fun. I guess I can come.”

“Good.” Exclaimed Adam, and Jordan spend the rest of the trip wondering if the invitation was more than a friendly offer, or it was just his desire for it to be so. When the elevator’s doors opened on his floor, he stepped out and turned around with fakely innocent smile.

“Sweet dreams, Adam.”

After a second of surprise, Adam returned the smile and replied softly.

“Sweet dreams, Jord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is almost ready, but doesn't have a title yet. I guess we'll see on Sunday. I hope you're enjoying the story.


	5. The one with no name, because I can't think of any

Adam looked at the crowd, circling the restaurant and felt content, that this was one of Studge’s good ideas. They’ve gathered the tables in the main hall, carrying out new batch of mini-pizzas every ten minutes. The other rooms had only high tables with no chairs, and selection of different wines on each of them. It looked almost like high-class cocktail party, but cozier. It sounded warmer too, with Al Greene and Patty Labelle sounding from the speakers, and the excited chatter of people, feeling good to be there.

Adam’s eyes headed to the windows, again, and he tried to convince himself that he was just checking the streets and not looking for a tall figure with blond hair and broad shoulders. A new batch of pizzas and few shouts from the kitchen made him glance in their direction, just in time to see Studge acting out his welcome speech. Adam was a people’s person, great in face-to-face interactions, able to make anyone feel comfortable, but public speaking in front of a big crown was making him feel anxious. That’s what he had his manager for – born to be in the spotlight, in love with his own voice, but laid back and humorous enough, to not leave a trace of arrogance or egotism. Shaking his head fondly, Adam turned back to the entrance and his heart skipped a beat. Jordan was just getting in, looking a lot more charming in a snuggly sweater and jeans, than his usual professional blazers and trousers. Then his heart skipped another beat upon realizing Jordan was not alone. He was accompanied by a short, baby-faced guy, looking like he was always joyful and sunny. They were laughing at something, almost beaming, which, ironically, made Adam’s mood a little gloomier.

“Looks like your man is here.” He heard Emre’s teasing comment by his ear and turned to snap back, a little too fast.

“He’s not _my man_ , he’s just a neighbor.”

“Sorry, my bad.” Smirked the bartender.

“”What made you say that, anyway?” Adam questioned, hoping the heat he was feeling creeping up his cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

“I don’t know.” Emre shrugged. “I guess it’s because Studge keeps the security camera tape, from your late-nighter last week, in the office. To, and I quote, _prove that you have social interactions outside of work_.”

Adam thought he must have looked really unsettled, because Emre cackled and teased again.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?”

“Later, maybe.” Remarked Adam, turning towards the kitchen instead. “First I have to make sure Dejan hasn’t killed or injured any of the line cooks yet.”

But the barman couldn’t let him go that easily.

“Well, when _later_ comes, would you ask him, if his companion is _with him_ or not. He looks cute.”

Adam shook his head at the laughing man, but was saved from replaying by Studge.

“Hey, time for welcoming?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” He stepped back, leaving the manager to his element. He watched, amused, as Sturridge greeted the guests for the first (“And, hopefully, one of the many”) night of flavor pleasures. With a grin, he invited them to try everything, pick a favorite and share it with Alberto, who was there for any kinds of questions, observations and suggestions. Cracking a joke, he exclaimed “Bon appetite!” and obviously enjoyed the enthusiastic applause he got.

Chuckling at his exaggerated bow, Adam headed to the oven, only to be shooed away by an angry Croatian, not wanting any interruption in the working process in _his_ cooking area. Getting back to the bar, he almost ran in to Jordan, who was just ordering a beer.

“You know, that’s almost an offence to all the great wines I’ve handpicked for tonight.” Adam declared, sliding in the chair closest to Jordan.

The blond turned to him with a grin, like he expected the input.

“Really? I’m sorry. What would you recommend me, then?”

“You should stick mostly to the red ones, looking for a high acid one – try Barbera or Chianti. Syrah is suitable for spicier food, so maybe that, for Pepperoni or Garlic chicken pizza.”

“When did you become an expert on wines?” teased Jordan.

“Six months ago, when I took an oenology class.” Adam gleed internally at the appreciative stare.

The moment was ruined when Emre placed Jordan’s ordered beer in front of him.

“If you have decided on a wine” the barman offered “you can take the pint to your friend. If he’s old enough to drink.” At Jordan’s raised eyebrow, Emre just shrugged. “Tell him it’s on me.”

Jordan smiled, took the beer and turned to Adam.

“See you around.”

To Adam’s accusatory look, Emre grinned.

“He’s cute.”

 ~~~~~~

Adam circled the restaurant, greeting regular customers, introducing himself to new faces, moving effortlessly from one group to another and beaming at the praise he was getting. Out of the corner of his eye he kept tab on Jordan, wondering when it won’t be too early to approach him, anymore. After another half hour of small talk, he found him and his companion in the hall with the beer cans. Jordan has lifted his wine glass to a soft spotlight, baffled look on his face, tongue sticking between his teeth, and Adam couldn’t contain his laughter. Jordan turned to him, still frowning, eyes watery from staring too long into the light.

“I don’t think I’ll ever figure out how to do that.” He exclaimed, making Adam chuckle again.

“Well, it’s not something you _figure out_ , someone has to teach you how. I thought I’ll never learn, either, but two months of lectures and few trips to big cellars work wonders, apparently.”

“Two months?” cried out Jordan’s mate. “Like, every day?”

Adam turned to him, amused.

“Yeah, almost. At least three hours of lecture or two-hours exercise.”

“I think Philippe just gave up the idea of trying.” Giggled Jordan, making the short guy blush and mutter something unintelligible. “Hey, do you two know each other?”

Adam looked at him, confused, and Jordan hurried to explain.

“Philippe lives in our building, with his brother. 5A. I thought you know him, ’cos everybody knows Phil.” Jordan cooed, ruffling Philippe’s hair fondly, making Adam feel a pang of jealousy again.

“Oh, since you’re here” continued excitedly Jordan “We were wondering how long did it take you to gather this.” And he gestured to the four rows of beer cans, of all brands and countries, covering three of the walls.

“A very long time.” Adam smiled at his collection. “I started collecting them years ago, I don’t remember how any more. But when I got the idea for this decoration, it turned in to mania. I’ve been exploring every liquor store I’ve heard of, my friends started bringing me, or even sending me, new ones from all over the world. My alcohol delivery company helped a lot, too. But it took months anyway.”

“Oh” Philippe looked confused. “How long did it take you to open this place?”

“From the day a decided to do it, to the opening day…” Adam pondered. “About a year.”

“Wow” Jordan seem astonished, looking at the thinning, but still impressive crowd. “Well, you really made it work.”

Glancing around made Adam look at his watch and jump.

“I have to go check up the kitchen. Don’t hurry out, I’ll talk to you again.”

He smiled and headed first to Alberto, who was beaming from all the compliments and pleased reviews they have gotten, then to Emre, who was stacking empty bottles for recycling. Next stop was the oven, already cooling off. His pizza maker looked content and Adam wasn’t sparing superlatives and appreciation. As an answer from Dejan he got only a shook of the head, sly smile and an “It was fun, but tell this loon Studge to think of something that takes _his_ time and effort, next time!”. When he finally got back to the main hall Jordan and Philippe had repositioned to the bar, Phil holding the review book, asking how many “l’s” are there in “excellent”.

“It’s all done, boss, I’m going to head home now.” Addressed him Emre and turned to Jordan. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up, Jordan blushing and explaining.

“I told Emre we are playing football in the park every Sunday morning and always looking for new players. Do you want to come, too?”

“I have work to do.” Shook his head Adam, despite the evident hope in Jordan’s voice.

“He always has work to do.” Huffed Emre, almost out of the door already. “Goodnight guys.”

“Shouldn’t we call a cab now?” offered Philippe.

“Adam could take us home.” Blurted out Jordan, getting all red seconds later. “I mean, if it’s not too inconvenient.” He mumbled, eyes fixed on the floor.

Adam laughed, enjoying the view of perplexed Jordan and Phil, now knowing where to look.

“Sure, just let me check out the place and turn off the lights.”

~~~~~~

Back in their building, Phil took the stairs, leaving the others to wait for the elevator. The trip was awkwardly silent, Jordan opening his mouth couple of times, but not willing himself to speak. Stepping out on his floor, he held the door open, offering an uncertain “Goodnight and… sweet dreams”

Adam took a deep breath, taking the two steps, separating him from Jordan, locking his lips in a kiss. J sighed, opening his mouth to return the kiss readily, letting Adam feel the aftertaste of the red wine on his tongue. The kiss grew heated, turning in to a make-out session, with hands buried in hair, roaming on shoulders and waists, and pulling each other even closer. Adam almost lost himself in the feeling of Jordan and his taste – warm and sweet, but still a little spicy – like cinnamon hot chocolate. He slowed down, though, not wanting to rush things, despite the desire burning him up from the inside. One glance at Jordan, with his kissed-red lips, flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, made the decision way harder, but he still took a step back in to the elevator.

“Come to the restaurant tomorrow, OK? I’ll cook something, especially for you.” He offered, waiting for Jordan to smile, nod and release the door. Just before it closed, he returned the smile, whispering.

“Sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, comments and for still being here. Next update should be around the end of the next week :)


	6. The one with the (almost) domestic fluff

Adam was in the middle of a phone conversation with one of his suppliers when Jordan walked through the door, ripped jeans and almost see-through white t-shirt, noon light shining in his hair, and Adam’s mouth dried up. He got up to meet him in the middle of the hall, ending the call a little too abruptly.

“Hey, I was expecting you in the evening.” He smiled, not knowing what to do and settling for a kiss on the cheek.

“Plans changed.” Jordan smiled back. “Is the offer for food still on, though?”

“Of course.” Replied Adam, took his hand and led him to a table for two in the smallest hall – the one with the books. Jordan looked around, gesturing to the main hall.

“Not very busy today.”

“Sundays are slow when it’s sunny outside.” Explained Adam. “Plus, it’s a little after noon. Too late for breakfast and too early for lunch.”

“And yet, Emre, Phil and the guys went to get a beer and watch the early game in some pub.” giggled Jordan.

“Is it true that beer after workout helps recovery?”

“Well, I haven’t noticed any negative effects, but I usually settle on a light one.”

“I’ll get Loris on that. Now, any preferences on the food?”

“Surprise me.” Jordan grinned, cheekily.

Adam laughed and waved to the shelves.

“Help yourself while I’m gone.”

~~~~~~

Jordan was so engrossed in the book he was reading, he didn’t notice Adam, until he put a steaming plate, smelling divine, in front of him.

“What got you so interested?” asked Adam, laughing at his startled expression.

Jordan turned pink and lifted the book, so that Adam could see the cover, saying “Steven Gerrard: My story”.

“I was at that game.” he put away the book, seemingly lost in thought. “When he slipped. I felt bad for him then, and even worse now, knowing that he cried.”

“Did _you_ cry?” Adam asked, the softness in his voice turning a teasing question, in a sympathetic one.

“No, I was too shocked. And still hoped.” Jordan smiled sadly, but it turned in to a grin when he saw the plate.

“Dig in.” Adam offered.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I have a late lunch and skip dinner, usually.”

“That’s not very healthy, is it?” Jordan teased and grabbed his fork.

Adam chuckled and watched him take his first bite and moan.

“Oh God, that’s good. What is it?”

“Cheesy smoked sausage skillet. My specialty.” Adam boasted.

“How haven’t I seen it on the menu?”

“It’s not on the menu. I told you I’ll cook something especially for you.” Adam replied, sheepishly.

Jordan turned pink and murmured.

“You might spoil me.”

“I don’t mind. Long time since I last cooked for someone special.” Adam grinned, not minding the pink flush on Jordan’s face turning red. “You said something about change of plans?”

“Yeah, Lucas was supposed to go to a conference in London, but he got sick. Now I have to waste three days, to be lectured on a job, in a field where it’s mostly about practice and instinct.” Jordan frowned and took another mouthful of his meal.

“Three days? Does this mean I’m not gonna see you until Wednesday?” exclaimed Adam, almost pouting.

“There’s a closing dinner at Wednesday, so I’m not gonna be back until Thursday. And you’re working late, so Thursday evening is the first chance we’ll have.” explained Jordan, looking sorry himself. “But we can talk on the phone. I should be free in the evenings and, if you’re not very busy, you can call.”

“Sure.” smiled Adam. “So you can whine at me how bored you are.”

“I don’t whine.” Practically wailed Jordan, earning a heartily laugh. “And it might be boring, but I can always pretend to listen, and think of you, instead.”

Adam’s face flushed under Jordan’s intense stare and he covered Jordan’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers.

“Yeah, you do that.” He whispered and cleared his throat. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Have to go pack my bag right away, so I’m not late for the train.” Jordan replied, swallowing his last bite. “So, thank you for the meal and you’re welcome to spoil me anytime.”

He got up, pulling Adam with him, glanced around and leaned in, for what was supposed to be just a peck on the lips, but turned in to a sensual kiss.

“OK.” Adam cleared his throat again, pulling back. “Have a safe trip and try to have some fun. I’ll think about you, too.”

“Yeah?” Jordan beamed at him.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~

Liverpool had won a League Cup game and his staff was buzzing, Studge showing off his famous dance moves in the kitchen, for the last ten minutes. Adam was on the dim-light parking lot for a breath of fresh air and few quiet minutes, phone in hand. It was Tuesday, he haven’t heard from Jordan since Sunday, and had promised to call. Dialing the number, he leaned against the wall, smiling when he heard the soft voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey. So, you’re thinking about me after all.”

“All of the time. You?”

“Of course. The best bits of my day.” Jordan’s smile was evident in his tone. “Painfully familiar lectures, heated discussions, I don’t want to be dragged in, and lonely nights away from home. It feels almost like I’ve been here two weeks, not two days.”

“Did you see the game today?”

“Yes!” shouted Jordan, laughing. “I tried very hard not to jump when Origi scored. I might have looked weird in my chair, shaking.”

Adam chuckled, trying to picture it.

“So, what are you doing now?”

“Changing channels, trying to find a movie to watch. Do you want to help me?”

“Sure. What’s on?”

“Well” Jordan opened the TV Guide. “There’s _Valentine’s day_ …”

“Cute, but a little too sugary. Worth a watch if you feel mellow.”

“Good. Saving it for some other time, then. Um… _The Jungle Book_ , the animation. I was thinking of going to the live-action one.”

“Yeah, me too. But the animation is fun, too.”

“I’ve seen it a lot of times as a kid. There’s _Any given Sunday_.”

“Oh, I’ve been watching it very often when I still had time to watch sports movies or any sports at all. Moving and inspirational, that one is.”

Jordan laughed for two whole minutes at Adam’s attempt at Pacino’s speech (That’s football guys, that’s all it is. Now what are you gonna do?), then shook his head.

“I know that movie by heart, too. What was _300_ , the one about the Spartans?”

“Oooooh. Yes, you should watch that. Gerard Butler is a badass.”

“You know, he kinda reminds me of you.”

“Yeah, but a lot better shaped.”

Jordan blushed, trying to not imagine Adam in one of those leather bands he’s seen in the movie posters, failing miserably and blushing even harder.

“OK” he cleared his throat, hoping he didn’t sound too strained. “If you say it’s good movie, I’ll give it a try. It starts in ten minutes, so why don’t you tell me what are _you_ doing?”

“Currently, my chef and I are deciding the special for the next week, trying out recipes.”

“Can I be your tester, sometime?”

“Sure, next week I’ll take you in the kitchen with me. And, with your experience, might even be able to persuade Studge to realize that a masquerade is an event for a club, not a restaurant.”

“Masquerade?” giggled Jordan. “The type with the suits and the Venetian masks or…?”

“No. The costume type one. You know – nurses, superheroes and policeman.”

“Yes” Jordan laughed out loud. “I can totally see you in policeman uniform.”

“Oh, and do you like what you see?” almost purred Adam, causing hot wave through Jordan’s body. He couldn’t find enough air to speak, even if he knew what to say.

“Anyway” saved him Adam, smirk obvious in his voice “It’s not happening, so you don’t have to think about it _too much_.”

“Still gonna think about you, though.” Jordan was getting his breathing and face color back to normal.

“So am I. When are you coming back?”

“Thursday afternoon. I have to stop by the office to debrief Milly, but I shoul be home in the early evening.”

“Then how about I bring you late dessert when I finish work?”

“I’d love that. I’ll wait for you.”

“Great. So, goodnight now.”

“Sweet dreams, Adam.”

“Sweet dreams, Jord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still being with me and for all the kudos!


	7. Chapter 7

Adam was ready to bet that Jordan was wearing the same sweatpants and sports shirt he was in the first time they met, which made him grin widely. Jordan eyed him suspiciously, but shrugged it off, pulled him in for a kiss that lasted too short, then gestured him inside.

“You might want to grab a fork before you sit back down.” Adam warned, lifting his hand to show the plastic bag he was carrying.

“OK. And you might want to move Bagheera from the couch, otherwise there won’t be enough space for both of us.” Replied Jordan and headed to the kitchen, only to burst laughing when he got back.

Adam was standing in front of the couch, staring at the fur ball, that looked more like a fluffy log, spread on the furniture. From the tip of her front paws to the end of her back ones, she was covering more than a half of the seating space, her tail placed airily on a cushion.

“I don’t think she wants to move.” Adam pouted.

“You have to be more insistent.”

Jordan gathered the cat in his arms and moved her to the closest armchair. Bagheera looked at him offended, meowed disapprovingly and jumped down, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“What do you bring me?” excitedly asked her owner, too curious to care for his cat’s hurt feelings.

“Strawberry-mint cheesecake and chocolate-caramel short bread. As a prize for surviving that work trip.” Adam put a little too much dramatization in the second sentence, making Jordan laugh.

“I don’t think I can eat both.”

“We’ll split.” Adam offered and chuckled at Jordan’s pout. “I’ll give you the bigger pieces.”

Jordan settled on the couch, pulling Adam with him, close enough that they were touching shoulder to knee. Taking one of the boxes, he focused his attention back to the TV, where an angry blond was raging about some other girl, stealing her boyfriend.

“What is that?” Adam asked incredulously.

“Jordie shore.” Jordan mumbled, stuffing his mouth.

“Wow, now I’m happy I turn on my TV once a month.”

“To watch _“The Great British Bake Off”_?” Jordan teased, taking another big bite of the cheesecake.

“Mostly.” Adam huffed, embarrassed at being caught, but unashamed of his interests. “Hey, take it easy on the dessert. Enjoy it in small bites, don’t just gulp it down like you want to get over it faster.”

“OK, smarty-pants,” Jordan grinned, taking a really small piece with the fork. “You do it the right way.”

Adam caught Jordan’s wrist, directing the fork to his own mouth, licking his lips afterwards and not braking eye contact, smirking at Jordan’s whimper. Than he relaxed back on the couch, putting his arm on Jordan’s shoulder, pulling him close against his chest. Jordan cuddled up to him, dividing his attention between the pastry and the TV, but unable to concentrate on any of it. He wasn’t sure if Adam’s body was radiating heat or it was his reaction to their close proximity, but he couldn’t think straight. He leaned forward, putting the box on the table, and turned around, almost launching himself to Adam, catching his lips a little too rough. Adam pulled back an inch and tilted his head, making the kiss more tender, but no less intense, and Jordan melted in it. Burying his hands in soft brown locks, he parted his lips and licked into Adam’s mouth. His moan went straight to Jordan’s crotch, making him lean into the kiss with his entire body. He felt Adam’s hands on his back, under his shirt, fingertips pushing into his skin, trying to pull him even closer. Finally he settled of pushing him on his back on the couch, one hand supporting his weight and playing with the blond’s hair, the other one tracing the lines of a well-defined six-pack. Moving his lips from Jordan’s mouth to his jaw and down his neck, Adam bit a trail to the collarbone and back up and behind Jordan’s ear, reveling in the way the man squirmed under him, both of them breathing fast and shallow. Adam felt a pair of hands sliding down his spine, pulling at his own shirt, fingertips dipping slightly under the waistband of his trousers, making them shiver and flush. Both so focused on each other, forgetting the world beyond warm lips, roaming hands and entangled limbs. Both so lost in sensation they almost fell off the couch when the TV boomed with the catchy tune of some toothpaste ad, Jordan jumping up and sheepishly looking for the remote between the pillows. Muting the sound, he looked up, blushing and shy, and a little guilty, like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Although it was down his pants, Adam thought, so not that far from the truth. Then he glanced at his watch and frowned.

“Well, I hope you won’t have problems with the neighbors for waking them up at 1 am. I heard the guy _above you_ is going to bed very early.”

“I’ll just woo him with a cheesecake. He can’t be mad at me for long.”

“You think I’m _that_ easy?” Adam tried to pout, but giggled involuntarily.

“Apparently I am.” Jordan tried for cocky, but blushed again, realizing what he said.

That won him another laugh and a soft kiss on the lips.

“It’s getting late, let’s get you to bed.” Adam whispered, and giggled again at Jordan’s wide-eyed and uncertain expression. “To sleep, dummy. It’s long past your bedtime now, I can see your eyes closing.”

After a too long to be just a _goodnight_ kiss and a “sweet dreams” whispers, Jordan collapsed in his bed, feeling ghost trail of lips on his neck and a hand on the small of his back, a little sorry he didn’t ask Adam to stay the night.

 

~~~~~~

 

Jordan became a frequent visitor at “Tranquillo” – for just a week he had finished Gerrard’s autobiography and started reading Mourinho’s one (As he tried to explain to Adam “It’s always good to know the enemy.”). He got to know Studge better, figuring out that for all his brashness and boldness, he was very talkative, but always sincere and never aiming to offend. He met most of the staff and Adam did take him in the kitchen for trying out of the next week specials. He had never heard half of the spices and some of the products that were mentioned, but was in an awe of the wonders that could be made with them. And later shared with Adam how surprised he was that so many people could work in so small space, and with sharp objects, and not cause an accident. To which Adam laughed and showed him a cut and a small burn mark.

“I burned myself in the cooking class, leaning against a turned on hot-plate.” He explained, pulling Jordan closer to him on the couch, rearranging them in a half-laying position. “The teacher almost threw me out of the course.”

“Lucky for you, that he didn’t.” smiled Jordan and took his hand to kiss the small mark at the base of his palm.

“Yeah, lucky. Every day I’m wasting a full lemon to make it heal quicker, but it still reminds me of what a rookie I was.”

“And now, that you are a professional, you switched to cutting yourself?” teased the blond, with a cheeky grin, earning a brief kiss and a bite on his lower lip.

“Don’t let Dejan hear you call me a professional. I’m just not a beginner. That’s why I have a chef and help in the kitchen only when it’s a busy hour.”

“Be careful, then. You might want to keep your fingers intact.”

“I do. How else am I gonna touch you, otherwise.” Whispered Adam, tracing a fingertip on the soft blush spreading from Jordan’s cheekbones to the collar of his shirt.

Jordan cleared his throat and changed the topic to compose himself.

“Hey, my mates from work suggested going to the movies on Friday. And I remember you wanted to watch “The Jungle Book”. Do you want to come?”

“I can’t, babe. I’m sorry. I’m meeting my accountant every Friday. And I have to close the restaurant after.”

“Can’t someone else do it?” pouted the blond. “I wanted you to meet the guys.”

“Well, I’ve met them, haven’t I? And I’ll have many other chances, I hope. Now” Adam curled a hand behind Jordan’s neck, leaned in for a soft kiss and mumbled against his lips “Do you have to go to bed or do I have time to enjoy you a little more?”

Jordan turned redder and lifted his eyes to Adam’s, so close, so intense and so adoring. He swallowed hard and spoke, low and quiet.

“I’m not sleepy yet. I was thinking you can stay awhile. Or…”  he didn’t know how to voice his desire, but hoped Adam will pick up on it by the way Jordan’s leg sneaked between his, fingers playing with his belt buckle, eyes pleading for more.

“Or what, babe? Tell me what you want.” Adam’s voice was husky, breathing rapid, fingers burying deeper in Jordan’s hair.

“Or you could spend the night here?”

“Oh, I would love to, darling. Believe me. But it’s a work day tomorrow and we both have to get up early.” Adam dropped his voice even lower, almost purring against Jordan’s jaw. “And when I finally take you to bed, I want to be able to make it properly.” He pulled one of Jordan’s legs around his waist and licked a line down his neck, to the base of his throat. “Take my time with you and show you how much I enjoy touching you…” insistent fingers pushing up Jordan’s sides, making him throw his head back and whine. “… kissing you…” lips on the pulse point of Jordan’s neck, a bite and a soothing kiss “…feeling you any way and everywhere.”

Pushing his body in to the man under him, Adam moaned and bit his lip. The view before him was so tempting – Jordan panting, his lips and cheeks red, pupils blown and eyes hungry, the leg on Adam’s waist pulling him in, fingers buried in his hair. After a long, sensual and almost bruising kiss, Jordan pressed their foreheads together, growling.

“Then make time. Soon!”

The raw need in his voice made Adam squirm and nod frantically.

“I promise you, babe. I promise.”

“OK. Time for sleep.” Cheerfully announced the blond, untangling himself from Adam and getting up. After a soft kiss and the usual “sweet dreams” wishes, he left, leaving Adam to mentally kick himself for another night, spend only dreaming of the gorgeous blond in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dearly apologize about taking too long with this chapter. I know where they are going, but I needed to figure out how they're getting there. I hope it works for you, because I'm still not sure, myself. Next chapter is mostly Jordan's POV and I hope it takes less time.


	8. Chapter 8

Jordan was staring at the same spot on the wall of his office for the last fifteen minutes, when Lucas popped his head through the opened door.

“Lunch?”

It took Jordan few seconds to register the question and nod, standing up and putting on his blazer.

“Do you have ideas of where to go?”

“I was thinking about the place where Simon got drunk.” Lucas cackled, with the closest to evil grin his sweet face could muster.

“I don’t feel like going there.” Hendo frowned.

“Why? The food was delicious and the owner is cute. I believe I heard Phil tease you about him on Sunday.”

Jordan blushed a little when his co-worker elbowed him, but remained serious.

“That’s part of the reason I don’t want to go.” Lucas answered with a raised eyebrow. “If you’ll listen, I’ll talk.”

 

Twenty minutes later Lucas was slurping rice spaghetti and Jordan was butchering sweet’n’sour pork with chopsticks.

“Why don’t you just take the fork and eat like a normal person?” the Brazilian exclaimed, evidently amused.

“It’s called _enjoying the experience_!”

“You’re an Englishman eating in a fast-food joint in Liverpool. Here it’s not a culture, it’s just food and the only experience you’re getting is _How to eat sloppily without making a mess of your shirt_.”

After seeing Jordan just shrug and keep his eyes firmly on his plate, Lucas continued with a soft smile.

“So, Phil was right. There is something between you and the handsome owner of that nice restaurant. What was his name again?”

“Adam.” The Englishman answered, his ears tingling when he remembered moaning that name with Adam’s lips on his neck. He shut down the memory, frowning.

“Oh. Things are not going good, then?” Lucas tried to read his friend’s expression.

“I thought they are. Until I actually thought about it.” Jordan opened and closed his mouth few times, trying to sort out his thoughts. “It feels good, feels right. But when I look at it from distance, it’s like I’m the only one who feels that.”

“How so?”

“It looks like I’m the only one who searches for a relationship. I stay up late to wait for him to finish work, I go to the restaurant to see him and, sometimes, spend only fifteen minutes with him, I’m the one who’s always available and he’s the one who’s mostly busy. Yes, he says he wants to be with me, but he’s not doing much about it. And, thinking about it now, I’m not even sure what kind of _wanting_ he means.”

Jordan breathed out, heavily, and finally looked at his friend, silently pleading for an advice.

“I don’t know what to tell you, really.” Lucas scratched his head. “You know I’m married with children, long time ago was when I had worries of that sort. But why don’t you just talk to him? Ask him how he feels about it?”

“Won’t that sound a bit too clingy?” Jordan cringed. “It sounds too serious for me. Too much like commitment and I’m not sure _I_ want to commit just yet. I just want to be with him. And…”

“And?”

“I want him to want to be with me.”

Jordan crossed his hands on the table and lowered his head on top of them. Lucas didn’t understand the mumble that came afterwards, so he had to repeat.

“I said that I sound like a character out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Nicholas Sparks. I almost cried at Dear John.” Giggling at the look his friend gave him, Lucas continued. “OK, apparently you like him a lot and, obviously, you’re too scared to admit it. If you really can’t talk to him, then just… I don’t know… carry on. Keep being with him whenever you can. Have fun, spend some good time together, just lower your expectations and don’t get too involved.”

“I guess… What else can I do anyway?” Jordan shrugged.

“Talk to the guy!?”

“Yeah, how about no. I choose having fun. Thanks, Lu.”

“Always, mate.”

 

~~~~~~~~

 

So, Jordan was in the restaurant again, this time on the bar, Philippe by his side. An unusually quiet Philippe. The Brazilian wasn’t very loud in general, but he was affectionate, opened and talkative among friends. And tonight he seemed a lot more interested in the draft beer system, than in keeping conversation. Jordan followed his stare, for a dozenth time this evening, to the other end of the bar, where Emre was filling an impressive number of beer mugs with something dark and foamy.

“When did you got so interested in kegs and tap handles? I thought complex coffee machines were more your thing.”

“Wh-what?” his friend stuttered, looking at him with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Jordan opened his mouth to speak again, but casted one more look at the bartender and then at his blushing companion, and his mouth cracked in a grin.

“Or is it the system’s operator that catches your attention so often tonight?”

Phil, feeling comfortable joking around with his friend, decided to tease back.

“So, that’s what we’re talking about now? Should I ask about you and Adam, then?”

“What about me and Adam.” The blond tried, weakly, knowing that his reddening ears were giving him away. He tried to hide behind his drink, anyway.

“Nothing. Just… the neighbors are talking.”

Jordan almost spluttered his beer at this.

“Oh, god.” He hid his face in his hands. “Saying what, exactly?”

“Nothing much. Just pointing out that you spend a lot of time in each other’s apartments. And very often, for that matter.”

“Don’t they usually sleep at that time at night?” Jordan wondered, understanding this was incriminating him even more.

“You know how it is – it’s enough for one to be awake.” The Brazilian sounded frustratingly amused. “I’m not sure they have picked up on the reason, yet. But they will, eventually.”

“I don’t want people in the building discussing my love life.” Whined Hendo.

“I wouldn’t want it, either.” Phil tried to sound sympathetic, but fell in to a grin.

“You mean your _possible_ love life?” Jordan emerged from his palms and nodded his head to the other end of the bar, where a tall, handsome man was still busy pouring drinks.

“Piss off.” Phil retorted, blushing. “And don’t change the topic.”

“That _was_ the topic, initially.”

Hendo waved his hands to empathize the point and tried very hard to stay at least semi-serious, but started chuckling by the end of the sentence. Half amused and half embarrassed, both man found it difficult to keep their composure.

“Do I have to stop your beer or switch it to something non-alcoholic?” came a deep voice to their right.

Lifting their eyes to see Emre in front of them, they collapsed in laughter again, Phil turning deep-red. Jordan regained enough sense to answer.

“No, no. We’re all right, thank you.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been giggling like school girls for the past ten minutes and it looks like you’re having fun. I want in on the gossip.”

“Well…” Jordan started, almost falling off his stool from the force of Philippe’s elbow to his side. “Maybe some other time. It’s… an inside joke.”

Emre shrugged, not very disappointed but still curious, and headed to another customer. His place was taken by the manager – big smile and mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I see someone blushing. Was it something Emre said or it’s just the way he looks?” not waiting for an answer he cackled, like a mad villain from a super-hero movie. “Quite the ladies’ man, our barman. Almost half of the single ladies tonight are here because of him, I’m ready to bet. Most of the other come for me, of course, but I try to stay humble about it. Don’t want no bad reputation.” With a pointed look to Jordan, he added. “Adam gets some attention, too. And I’m not talking only about the girls.”

The Cheshire cat-like grin took over the lower half of his face.

“Leave the customers alone, Studge. Your job is to make them feel comfortable, not the opposite.” Adam rushed to their help, seeing how Jordan and Phil were trying to hide under the bar.

“What? With the amount of time these two spend here lately, we should be friends by now.”

“Well, go talk to another friend of yours, then.”

“OK. I see how it is.” Studge tried for a stern look in Adam’s direction, but beamed at the two man before him. “If I’m not welcome here, I’ll just go mock Alberto’s new haircut.”

He headed to the kitchen, whispering something in Emre’s ear when he passed by him. The bartender glanced in their direction and Phil tried, mostly successfully, to hide behind Jordan.

“I’m sorry about him, this is just his idea of friendly behavior. The moment Studge starts messing with you, you know he accepts you as one of his crew. Are you two OK? You seem a bit flustered. Did he say something inappropriate?”

“No, it wasn’t him.” Jordan hurried to save the young man from trouble, but choosing the wrong words.

“Oh, it was you then?” Adam teased. “You’ll tell me about it later, won’t you?”

“Just speak louder, because Mrs. Robinson has a problem hearing well, lately.” Chirped in Philippe and, if looks could kill, he would’ve been slaughtered on the spot.

“What’s that about?” Adam looked at him, curiously.

“I’ll tell you later, OK?” Jordan put his hand on his shoulder to stop him from asking anything else. As another cheerful company left through the door, he looked at the clock. “Do you think you’ll be closing early tonight?”

“Yeah, it’s a week day, so probably in half an hour. Then I’ll take you both home.”

After an intense look, making Jordan all warm inside, Adam followed his manager in the kitchen. Phil, not done teasing for the evening, smiled sweetly at Jordan.

“I know I’m going to my own apartment tonight. Are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I left them hanging but I'm trying to figure out what's happening with them afterwards. Great to imagine and hell to write.
> 
> Thank you for staying with me :)


	9. Chapter 9

Jordan cursed his choice of a button-up for the day. His fingers were slipping on the small buttons erratically, not managing to do much, and he wished he could just tear them, as it was depicted so easily in the movies. Adam gently removed his hands and, not knowing what to do with them, he buried them in the soft brown locks on his head. With fingers on his chest and lips on his neck, he tried to sink in to the sensation, closing his eyes and leaning his head on the wall behind him. The wall of his own apartment – the only place they seemed to _meet_ lately, and was that a sign? For third time in the last half hour (the time it took them to get from the restaurant to here and now) Jordan wondered if he was looking too much into the situation. Was them being together like _that_ meaning something? Was it another step in their relationship? Or was it just something they both wanted, so why not just do it?

His train of thoughts derailed when Adam slipped the shirt off his shoulders and pushed him firmer against the wall. Jordan opened his baby-blues to meet a pair of dark eyes, the warmth, usually radiating from them, switched with something resembling primal hunger. Shivering, he lowered his head to meet Adam’s mouth. Slipping his fingers under his sweater. Pressing his fingertips on Adam’s skin, he slid them up his sides and down, tracing his spine, reveling in the way Adam moaned his name. _His_ name! Tugging at Adam’s sweater, Jordan pulled it over his head, dropping it on the floor. With the corner of his eye he caught a very large and really elaborate tattoo design on Adam’s side. He was to riled up to stop and explore it now, but maybe next time. Next times? Would there be next times? Probably, if they liked _this_ time. But if it happened again, would it mean something _then_ , or would it be just this – them, doing it just because they want it?

Adam pushed him back in the wall and the skin-on-skin contact hot-wired something in Jordan’s brain, sending bright sparks through his entire body. Hooking his fingers in Adam’s belt loops, he practically dragged him to the bedroom, collapsing beside him on the sheets, in a tangle of limbs. They were both burning, but neither was in a hurry, so they took their time with each other. Touches, varying from the softest, feather-like contact to firm strokes, hardly grazing sensitive areas, teasing and baiting the other. Kisses, switching from soft, barely there pecks to almost violent clash of lips against lips, tongue against tongue, pushing in until their lungs burned for air, only to return to slow, sloppy, open-mouthed caresses.

Jordan felt like the world outside his bedroom simply didn’t exist, anymore. Getting rid of his clothes, one by one. Shivering and squirming under Adam’s finger and lips. His own lips tracing lines and muscles, tasting Adam this way for the first time.

Could something this intimate be casual? Could tenderness be not provoked by feelings, but be a simple physical act? Jordan’s thoughts were running hundred miles per hour. How could he not get involved when he knew, already, what Adam sounded like when he scraped his fingernails on his abs. How his breath hitched when Jordan grazed his neck with his teeth. How the muscles of his back rippled under his hands when Adam hovered over him. How his weight was pressing him into the bed, making him panting and breathless at the same time. He was overwhelmed, but he couldn’t shut his mind down. He was able to call, now, a lover, a man he hadn’t even referred to as his boyfriend. And that wasn’t right, was it?

“Jordan” Adam’s voice came really close to his ear, his breath tickling his neck and he had to swallow a groan. “Jordan. I want you.”

In the dim light coming from the living room, Jordan searched for Adam’s eyes, giving the faintest of nods. He pulled Adam for a kiss, spreading his legs, so that they could fit in to each other better. It was just them, now. Only them and whatever was happening between them. It was like the time had stopped. It was wonderful, and it was right. It couldn’t not be. He could hear himself whispering Adam’s name over and over again, his moans sounding almost desperate, but he didn’t care anymore. He was done pretending it was casual for him. His mind was blank, free form all the constrictions and limitations he was trying to put on. There was only Adam – the feel of him, his taste, his smell, his hungry eyes and insistent touches. His _want_ for Jordan.

And when Adam finally sank in to him, Jordan gave in.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Jordan was spread out on the bed, a little dizzy and exhausted, but content. He was dozing off when he felt a blanket being pulled up to his shoulders. He tried to nuzzle Adam’s hand and move closer to him, but the next second he was gone. Jordan opened his eyes, seating up. Adam was putting on his trousers, looking for his belt.

“Are you… going?” the blond asked, not understanding what was happening.

“Well, it’s workday tomorrow.” Nonchalantly explained Adam. “I have to get up early and you need your sleep. So, I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Sweet dreams.”

He leaned to kiss a still shocked Jordan, picked up his sweater from the living room floor and walked out of the door. Jordan laid back in the bed, pulling the blanket to his chin, staring at the spot where he last saw Adam. He felt sick. Despite all the promises he made himself, he had fallen deep. And now, he was screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know where exactly I wanted to take this, but this is where it took me. I hope it feels right for you, it does for me.
> 
> They have just one more chapter and an epilogue in this universe, so stay tuned :)


	10. The one they are not even in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but these two just wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to give them a chance. Adam and Jordan's story continues in few days.

This was Philippe’s worst morning ever. Monday, which didn’t matter much, considering Phil worked shifts, very early, which he was used to by now, and raining, which wasn’t very unusual in England. It was exceptionally bad, because he had to be woken up by the world’s most obnoxious mechanical alarm clock and have a lecture for breakfast. He had lost his phone yesterday and, in addition to the troubles he had to get through to get a new one and reassemble his contact list, he had to listen to his brother’s nagging again. Not that Leo wasn’t in his right, Phil had lost a lot of things through the years – few jackets used as goalposts and abandoned on the made-up pitch, books he forgot who he borrowed to and never got back, money, falling out of his unzipped pockets and excessive amount of various small things. It happened often, but saying it didn’t help much. Repeating it hundreds of times helped even less.  Confirming the theory, that if something starts bad, it can go only worse, Phil burned his finger on the espresso machine, broke a cup, taking it out of the dishwasher and hit his head on the counter, kneeling down to pick up the pieces. That’s why, when the bell above the door ringed to announce the first customer of the day, he had to try really hard to put on his face something even resembling a smile. His expression froze mid-way through, because the guy in the coffee shop wasn’t a customer. Not a regular, at least. It was Emre – the classically handsome bartender from his neighbor’s restaurant. Emre, who was coming to their Sunday kickabouts with a blood-red kit and the wind in his hair (as much as his styled hairdo could be ruffled by anything slower than a typhoon).Emre, who laughed at Philippe’s joke every time he dared to tell one, leaving him breathless with the sight of a pair of warm eyes and a bright smile.

That same smile was directed at him at the moment, its owner obviously excited.

“Oh, good. I found you. I wasn’t sure I understood the directions correctly.”

“Wh-what?” Phil stuttered. Something he seemed to do quite a lot around Emre.

“Adam called Jordan to ask where can I find you today, but I still don’t know the city very well and I wasn’t sure I’ll find the place.”

“Find me?” Phil was mentally kicking himself, but couldn’t sort his thoughts enough to form a full sentence.

“Yeah.” Emre beamed at him, not helping at all. “Apparently we’ve switched our jackets some time yesterday. Either in the park, or at the pub. I found out when I tried to put yours and I just couldn’t fit in.”

The Brazilian blushed, noticing, again, Emre’s taller, broader frame, accentuated by the confident way he was carrying himself.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Thing like that happen all the time. I just thought you’re gonna want it back. Especially with your phone in one of the pockets.”

Phil’s mind got blank for a moment, before the relief hit him. That he won’t have to buy a new one, that he finally found something he’d lost, and that Emre came to him, instead just calling a random number from the phonebook (or worse – his mom). Before he knew what he was doing, he was already around the counter, throwing his arms around Emre’s neck, mumbling “thankyouthankyouthankyou”. When the tall man’s laugh ruffled his hair and reverberated through his chest, Philippe froze, realizing what he’s done. That wasn’t Emre marking him on the pitch or sitting close to him in a pub booth. That was a full body contact, that made him flush and almost shiver. Taking a step back, he took the bag handed to him and got back behind the counter, trying to hide his red cheeks.

“Very important phone, huh?” Emre laughed, the deep, sexy sound quickening Phil’s heart, despite his attempts to calm down.

“Not that much.” He tried to shrug it off. “But I’ve lost so many things through the years, that I’d rather save myself the trouble of telling mom another one have gone missing.”

“Is she nagging much?”

“Well, she says it wouldn’t be nagging if I had listened the first time. Not that it makes any difference in that situation. But, yeah, better if she doesn’t find out.”

He looked again at Emre’s warm smile and, feeling calmer and braver, decided he wants to keep him around.

“How about me making you a coffee to thank you for getting my stuff back to me?”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to. Let me guess. Black, two shots espresso.”

“Whipped-cream latte.” Emre grinned at him and Phil cursed mockingly under his breath. “But make it in a paper cup, please. I’m hurrying for the university.”

“You’re still a student?”

“Yeah, aren’t you?”

“No, I graduated this summer. I’m thinking about master’s degree, but haven’t decided on it yet.”

“Does that make me younger than you?”

“Apparently so.” Smirked Phil, happy to take the upper hand in age as least, if not in size and attitude.

Emre was grinning at him again. Busying himself with the coffee machine, he wondered what was it with that guy constantly smiling. Was he like that with everyone? Holding the paper cup, he smiled back.

“This is the part where I ask for your name.”

“Is it necessary?”

“It shows personal approach to the client.” Phil made his best handwriting effort with the four letters and, after a short debate with himself, decided that it’s proper to add a smiley face.

“Thank you.” Emre lifted the cup as for a toast, grabbed few sugars and headed to the door.

“Wait.” Philippe suddenly remembered. “I should give you _your_ jacket back.”

“That would be good. I quite like it.”

“I can bring it to the park next Sunday.”

“I can’t be there. I’m visiting my family next weekend. Bring it here and I’ll come and get it some morning.”

“ _Some_ morning?”

“Yes, I’ll surprise you. That way you’ll think about me every morning.”

And, with a wink, Emre was out of the door, leaving Phil open-mouthed and blushing an adorable shade of red.


	11. Chapter 11

Adam felt a spike of confusion, despite the excitement, when he saw Jordan storming through the door of the restaurant. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, Jordan had made a habit of coming to see him after work, but this time he seemed rushed.

“Hey” the blond said, getting close to him. “I need you.”

Adam saw the worry in his expression and led him to the break room at the back of the place. It was an especially busy night, so all of the staff was working and the room was empty.

“What happened?” Adam asked, suddenly concerned.

“Phil called me at work. Mrs. Robinson told him that Bagheera hadn’t stopped meowing all day. He got in the apartment to check on her and said she looked terrible, she threw up all over the place. The only veterinarian that works late on Friday is three neighborhoods and two bus switches away, so I need you to drive me and her there.” Jordan darted out the words so quickly he had to take few deep breaths after the last sentence.

Adam thought about Studge, waiting for him at the bar, to discuss the new Quiz night idea, and the full tables, and asked remotely.

“Can’t you take a cab?” noticing Jordan’s surprised face he tried to explain himself. “I’m exceptionally occupied this week. I told you last night, didn’t I?”

“It’s not just this week, Adam.” The blond offered coldly, sounding distant himself. “You’re occupied by default.”

Adam felt he was right, but unfair, so he turned defensive.

“I’m trying to make a dream of mine come true, you know that. And working my ass off for that.”

“I’m trying to make _this_ work” Jordan gestured between them, shaking his head. “But, at this moment, I don’t seem to be succeeding.”

“Don’t turn it in to bigger issue than it is. Bagheera is just a cat, she’ll be all right.”

Jordan looked at him, startled.

“She’s not just a cat. She’s the only living being, that’s been by me every time I needed it.”

Feeling like he crossed a line, but too proud to apologize, Adam tried to joke.

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that. All I wanted to say is, that it’s probably nothing and you’re worried in vain. Don’t be mad at me, please.” He cooed, getting close to Jordan, offering his best smile. “Although, you look cute when you’re mad.”

“Oh, do I? Well, then get ready for me to become gorgeous.” Jordan’s voice was now burning with anger and he was spitting the words. “And you better listen, because this is a warning. This is the last night I’m waiting for you to finish work.” Adam took a step back, startled. “The last time I’m staying past any reasonable hour, waiting for you to be done with everything important, so you can finally come to me.” Adam made a move to take hold of him, but he pulled back. “I’m tired of pushing myself into your world. I feel almost like an intruder. I know who is Emre’s most hated university professor and Studge’s favorite hip-hop tunes. I know the names of some of your delivery guys and can recognize most of the regular customers. When was the last time you’ve asked anything about _my_ life? What do you know about me, besides that I live under you and have a cat?” Jordan’s voice almost broke and he had to take a steadying breath. Adam looked scared and shaken, but he ignored him and continued, quieter and firm. “And most of all, I’m sick of you coming late, to spend an hour in my bed, to only run off afterwards, because you have to _get up early_. And leave me there, wondering when will I see you next, if _I_ don’t come to you.”

Jordan’s eyes looked almost white, shimmering with tears, and Adam found it hard to swallow around the lump in his throat. He felt like he was being trialed and waited for the sentence. But Jordan put it off for later with his last, bitter, words.

“Think about it, if you can find time. I’ll ask Lucas to drive me.”

Without another word, Jordan marched out, leaving Adam horrified and unable to move. When he finally came to his senses, he dragged himself to the bar where Studge was waiting for him.

“What happened, lad?”

Adam sighed and almost whispered.

“I messed up very, very bad.”

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Adam knew that the longer he was standing in the hallway, the later it was getting, but he just couldn’t will himself to knock for the past five minutes. Counting to ten, he rang the doorbell and tried to slow down his heart rate. Jordan opened up, standing in the center of the doorway, not exactly hostile, but not welcoming either.

“I brought you dessert.” Adam tried to smile, handing him a small paper bag. “It’s a vanilla raspberry muffin.”

“Too bad. I liked the chocolate-banana one more.” Flatly replied Jordan, but took the bag.

Adam winced, not knowing if it was just a statement or a way to wound him.

“How’s Bagheera?”

“The vet said she probably ate something she shouldn’t have, lavaged her stomach and let her stay in the clinic for tonight. Thank you for your concern.” He turned and headed inside the apartment.

Adam followed him and closed the door. He sat on the couch, a lot further away from Jordan than he wanted. He didn’t know how to start, but Jordan wasn’t willing to make it easier for him and just stared at him with crossed arms and tight jaw. Adam fidgeted around, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Look” he finally spoke. “I don’t know what to say, but I know I have to say something. I realize I messed up, but I have no idea how it got that far. I’m trying to apologize and it’s not easy, so be patient with me, OK?” he waited for Jordan to nod and continued. “When Jay left I thought it was because of the stupid idea of the stupid restaurant. And I decided, more in spite than anything else, that I’m going to have my own place and I’m going to make it work. But the more I was working on it, the more invested I was getting, and it became a passion, greater than anything else I’ve felt.” He looked at Jordan, silently pleading for him to understand. “The day we opened, I made a promise to myself to give it my all and never let anyone stand in the way.” Jordan clenched his hands in fists and Adam hurried. “I’m not blaming you of anything, I’m just trying to explain. I’ve been trying to understand it on my own for the past few hours.”

Adam relaxed, seeing Jordan loosen up a bit. He let himself slide a little closer on the couch, but didn’t dare to do more.

“What I’m saying is that I lost myself in the idea of success. It wasn’t because it made me happy any longer, it was to prove something to someone who didn’t care anymore. I settled myself on a plan of action, not taking my eyes off the goal, and all else just fell behind. And I didn’t see it. I was dead bent on making it, hoping that it’ll bring me satisfaction. And the first time I felt I’ve succeeded is that time you walked in the restaurant, saying _“Wow, you’ve really made it work”_.” Jordan chuckled grimly and Adam shook his head. “I truly wish you would believe me, because I mean it. Things changed and it wasn’t about some obscure idea of achievement anymore. It turned in to desire for recognition, and maybe even pride, from someone whose opinion mattered to me.” Adam noticed Jordan’s hands in his lap now, his eyes softer. Taking a deep breath, he proceeded. “So, I started working even harder, wanting to… I’m not sure. Show off? Do something to make you admire me? I wasn’t aware of the consequences. I never realized what it was doing to you. To us.” He took the risk of reaching for Jordan’s hand, feeling ecstatic when he didn’t pull back. “So I’m asking you to understand that I’m terribly sorry and I never meant for the things to happen this way.”

Jordan met Adam’s eyes and squeezed his hand back.

“I’m trying to understand. I think I do. But” with that word Adam’s heart sank and the lump in his throat formed again. “It’s not what this is about. I know how much the restaurant means for you and I’m amazed by the great job you’ve done. This is about me.” Jordan took hold of Adam’s face and put his thumb on his lips, showing him that it was his turn to speak and he didn’t want interruptions. “This is about me not wanting to be a booty call or a way for you to unwind after a long day at work. It’s about me desiring more than just physical intimacy and the occasional late-night dinner at home. I don’t do friends with benefits, Adam, and most definitely not with you. My heart won’t take it. I’m so in to you, that I want it all or nothing. And it’s up to you, and it’s a one-time offer.”

Looking at Jordan like he was seeing him for the first time, and yet losing himself in his ocean-deep blue eyes and sweet smile, Adam was struck. He wanted it. But he didn’t just want Jordan in bed, under him, bodies intertwined and breaths mingling. He craved quiet nights, snuggled on the couch, Downton Abbey on the TV and the damned cat at their feet. He wished for long walks, holding hands, and sweet kisses leading to nothing – just for the sake of kissing. He wanted it so bad.

“All” he whispered. “I want you all.”

 

 

That night Adam worshiped Jordan. Kissing every inch of skin, touching every centimeter of his body, breathing sweet words in his ear. Trying to pour his heart in the tight embrace of their arms, getting lost in thrusts and moans. Succeeding in that task, feeling Jordan replying with the same passion. And it was _right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's mostly that. The last part is going to be just a short, fluffy epilogue to wrap things up. Thank you for staying with me and I hope you like the story.


	12. The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really embarrassed, that something that short took so long to write, but it's ready now, so... enjoy

Adam was laying his head on Jordan’s shoulder, playing with the sheet, covering them both. He could feel Jordan’s chest expanding with each steady breath, and his heartbeat, matching Adam’s. Moonlight and streetlight laminated the room enough for him to see the content expression on his lover’s face, when he lifted his head.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I’m sleeping in, since it’s Saturday and I have nowhere to hurry to.” Jordan grinned when Adam winced, remembering the ungodly hour, for a weekend, that he had to leave the bed. “I have to pick up Bagheera from the clinic around noon. And I have tickets for the  Liverpool’s game in the afternoon.”

“Pretty packed up, huh?”

“Well, I’m used to having my weekend to myself.”

Adam’s heart sunk low and he started lowering his head back to Jordan’s shoulder, but the blond lifted his chin and kissed his nose, tenderly.

“Hey, that was a statement, not an accusation. I could rearrange my schedule, so that we could spend some time together.”

“No, you don’t have to. But, maybe, I can take you out to dinner?”

“Take me out?” Jordan lifted an eyebrow. “Like, somewhere different from your place?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be exactly a date, if it’s in the restaurant again, would it? You’ve mentioned you like Chinese, so I’ve been thinking to take you to the best Chinese restaurant in the city.” After second of hesitation Adam added. “Thinking about it for quite some time, actually.”

“Chinese? Don’t you consider this junk food or something?”

“Not if it’s made properly.” The brunet smiled cheekily. “Plus, it’s OK every once in a while. Don’t want to ruin your taste for good food.”

“All right, dinner it is, then. At least we’ll spend the evening together.”

“Hey, if you’ll miss me that much I can come to your Sunday game in the park.”

“Won’t that mean you’ll be away from the restaurant for too long?” Jordan teased, trying to keep the hope away from his voice and face.

“Sundays are slow and the crew will handle the day without me. I haven’t played for more than a year and I actually miss it.”

“Oh? In that case you’re going in Philippe’s team.”

Jordan’s giggle turned in to yelp when Adam poked him in the ribs, before they burst in to a laugh together. The blond was still shiny-eyed and a little pink, when Adam kissed him deeply.

“You said you want it all. So do I.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Jordan stormed through the door and practically ran to the bar, wearing the biggest grin he could manage.

“We won! You should have seen Mane’s second goal! Pure brilliance!”

Adam beamed back at him, infected with enthusiasm.

“So, it was a good game?”

“Amazing! We cheered, we sang, we jumped, and now I’m starving.”

“Shall we go, then?” Adam took his hand and turned to Emre. “Tell Studge to check the kitchen properly, before locking up, and to let Ingsy know that I’m not coming early tomorrow.”

Emre just stared at him wide-eyed, so Jordan elaborated.

“He’s coming to our Sunday match. Will you be there?”

“Yeah…” mumbled the bartender. “Phil and I are meeting for a coffee before it.”

“Oh, OK.” Adam winked at him and tugged at Jordan’s hand. “I’ll be answering my phone only for real emergencies tonight, so, if the restaurant doesn’t catch fire, I’ll see you in the morning.”

They rushed out of the door, giggling, at the same time Studge walked out of the kitchen. The manager took one look at Emre, still wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and frowned at the door.

“What?”

Emre cleared his throat, before grinning.

“You’ll never believe what just happened!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big Thank you to all of you, who got to the end of the story. I hope you had good time with it. Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> "Chapter 2: The one in which they meet again, sort of" is under construction.


End file.
